


Not A Guardian Now

by Sansael



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel!Au, Homelessness, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansael/pseuds/Sansael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Thorin starts seeing dreams of a homeless man. The other day he sees him in a shelter and takes him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not A Guardian Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Peasantlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peasantlock/gifts).



> Inspired by currently-into (Peasantlock on AO3) amazing fallen angel!au.  
> http://currently-into.tumblr.com/tagged/fallen-angel-au  
> This drabble is so small, but I promise to write more of this verse.

"Here," Thorin unceremoniously dropped the warmest blanket he owned onto the small man huddled on his couch. The man in question slowly wrapped it around himself in such a way that only his face was visible. All in all, he now resembled a dorito, rather a human being. But, Thorin had to remind himself, he wasn't a human, was he?

Thorin watched as his guest brought up his hand, all the while under the blanket, and rubbed it between his fingers, as if never having experienced this before.

"Soft," he whispered with wonder. Indeed, the blanket was soft. An old thing that Thorin owned for longer than he cared to remember, and now firmly wrapped in all its faded red glory around his former guardian angel.

"You do realize this all sounds too much like Supernatural?" He finally sighed and got a snort for his troubles. He looked up to see the other man's face in a rather disgusted snarl.

"Please. Your nephews might be head over heels over this series, but I'll have you know that while they got a part of Heaven's system hierarchy right, the other half was completely rubbish. Be a dear, don't mention it in my presence."

Startled, Thorin laughed, leaning back in his armchair. Well, so apparently fallen angels were well versed in human TV series!

"I still can hear echoes of your thoughts," his own angel grumbled moodily, tugging blanket tighter. It was an awfully adorable sight, but his words were sobering and Thorin's good mood evaporated like smoke in a wind. Angel still could hear him. Still. Meaning he won't be able to soon.

"You never told me your name," he finally said, leaning with his elbows on his knees.

"You can call me Bilbo," Bilbo said and slid the blanket off his head, revealing riot of sandy curls, framing his round and, to be honest, too pale face. His eyes were blue and, Thorin had never appreciated this saying damn it, were far too old for his youngish face. The bluish bruise upon his chin looked wrong and out of place on his face.

"You know my name," Thorin said, absently scratching his left arm. He earned a look that said 'obviously'. "Still, will you explain this whole thing to me? Because I'm hella confused, and things don't end well when I'm confessed."

"Well, I should know that," Bilbo answered haughtily. "Don't you think I'll forget that your misunderstanding with Dwalin had resulted in that scar of yours," Thorin opened his mouth to ask how, but quickly caught himself. Right. Angel. Said angel meanwhile unfolded himself from the couch and padded softly around the room. Stopping in front of bookshelf he seemingly stopped to read titles, but instead started talking again.

"I was assigned as your guardian the moment you were born. I was to watch you grow and make sure you come out of dangerous situations mostly whole, but certainly alive. And it was all fine, because you were such a lovely child. So devoted to your siblings," there were wonder and adoration in his voice now and Thorin felt like something like belief stir inside him. No one could fake those emotions. "And then there were all those trials on your shoulders, and I did overstep my boundaries more than once to make sure-- That you don't end up in places I wouldn't want to see anyone. Especially you."

There was a pause during which Thorin bit hard on his bottom lip, for Bilbo's words brought up memories he didn't want to recall. Time when he was only eighteen and their parents died in a bank robbery gone wrong. Several questionable jobs he took to have enough money to raise Frerin and Dis. And one a several close calls when he got beat up in side allies and only cops passing by chance saved him. Those times he got almost mugged, and that one time he almost got kidnapped by some creeps and only the fact their handcuffs turned out to be broken saved him. Thorin was badly shaken that day and it was an eye-opener for him. He and his siblings moved to another side of city and Thorin finally put a real thought in what to do, rather than living off odd jobs.

Bilbo's voice brought him back from his memories.

"My superiors soon caught up on what I was doing. They weren't happy, but you cannot reassign guardian angels. It's just not done. So I got many reprimands, each more sever that the previous. Until--"

"Last week," Thorin finished for him. He realized where Bilbo's story was heading and there was only one thing lately that could affect his angel so much. "That truck... It was you that stopped it right before my sister?"

The curly haired head nodded.

"I don't think I could stomach your pain if Dis died," his voice was barely audible. Thorin wasn't himself sure he could ever stomach pain of either of his sibling dying.

"And that was the final drop. Dis had never been my charge. And however much I argued that she is essential for your well-being, they were unswayable."

Bilbo gave a hollow laugh and turned to Thorin. He was smiling, but his smile was too wide and didn't reach his eyes.

"We cast you out, they said. See if your human accepts you, they said," his voice sounded vaguelly hurt and confessed, and suddenly all Thorin wanted was to banish that lost expression from Bilbo's face. He searched for words a few moments, because he didn't want to say anything that could possibly muck things up.

"I can't exactly let my fallen guardian angel become a homeless, can I?" Was what finally came out, and Bilbo's small but sincere smile was totally worth cheesy line.

* * *

 

Lying in his bed that night Thorin kept thinking about what happened in a span of the last week. After a truck almost killed his sister (and Thorin still couldn't think about that), several strange things started happening. At first Thorin's coffee spontaneously started boiling in his mug. That freaked Thorin, but not so much and he actually wrote it off as a product of his tiredness. But when several doors banged closed before his nose without any visible reason throughout next two days, Thorin actually started considering such ridiculous things as a personal ghost to haunt him. There were several little things like that for a few days more, when it all culminated in a dream.

He dreamed of a man being pushed around in a halfway. The man was small, soft around the edges and clothed into the bedraggled clothes. He had light curly hair and was sickly pale.

Thorin woke up thinking that this was a usual nightmare, even if a bit creepy, but the next day he was returning from work and while passing a homeless shelter he saw the exact same man from his dream. The man was sitting near the window and looking in the sky with a longing expression.

Thorin was frozen. The he shook his head, dragged hand through his long dark hair and strode into the shelter. The man heard him entering and as soon as Thorin was close enough to hear him, beamed and said.

"You finally found me."

He wore the same clothes as in Thorin's dream and there was a pale bruise on his chin an his knuckles were split, just as Thorin remembered. Still, before he could open his mouth, stranger spoke.

"This wasn't a dream, you know."

Thorin felt himself sitting down on a plastic chair in front of him.

"Then what was it? Better yet, how the hell do you know about it?"

After that proceeded a rather awkward conversation about guardian angels and how they actually exist. The other man told Thorin several facts from his life that no one, not even the most dedicated creeper could dug out. So Thorin was forced at least somewhat believe his words.

Soon, though, it was starting to dark and previously almost empty shelter started to be packed with its homeless occupants.

Thorin stood up and held out his hand:

"Come. I don't want you to sleep here. Especially if what you say is true."

He was rewarded with another bright smile and soon they were walking cold September streets together. By the time they reached Thorin's home, his stranger who hasn't told his name yet, was chilled and slightly trembling, so the first thing Thorin did upon entering the house was to usher his new friend into a hot shower and when he emerged from it several minutes later, shove him his warmest blanket.

Now, though, Bilbo was sleeping in a guest room, buried beneath several blankets (apparently fallen angels were unused to chilly nights). It was still so strange to Thorin. He was half-expecting the prank to be revealed any moment, but, strangely, he wanted to trust the guy. It was strange as well, because he had never been a trusting tipe, but something in Bilbo's eyes made him want to believe his crazy fallen angel story.

With such thoughts in mind, Thorin drifted off to sleep, this time with no dreams at all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can always drop by my tumblr, sansael as well.


End file.
